


The Deal

by NotWhoIAppearToBe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Deals, Lovers, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-05 04:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoIAppearToBe/pseuds/NotWhoIAppearToBe
Summary: This was based on a prompt I received. Heahmund makes a deal to save Ivar's life at the cost of all of their memories together. I decided to slightly tweak the prompt and the story instead.





	1. Return to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catastrophage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophage/gifts).

“Are you certain you wish to go through with this Heahmund? Do you realize the cost of what it is you are asking?”

Heahmund nods to the old wizened woman as she sighs and shuffles about her abode, little more than a shack filled with strange objects he was not familiar with, bottles holding various concoctions, the feet of chickens hanging from the ceiling along with herbs and plants.

Heahmund had been with Ivar for almost a year now. His most loyal and trusted advisor, his guard, his shield and his friend. For a year, Heahmund was the only person Ivar could trust. They’d gone through so much together and had finally earned their hard won peace but their peace had not lasted. 

It had been during a simple evening meal when Ivar had taken sick. At first they thought it was simply a passing illness but as the days passed, Ivar became worse. The healers he brought in confirmed that Ivar had been poisoned. Someone had poisoned his food or his drink.

Heahmund had ordered all the slaves in the kitchens to be brought before him, determined to find out who had done this to Ivar. He may have only been a Christian and a Bishop but everyone knew that the only person with more power in Kattegat than Heahmund was Ivar. With Ivar sick and possibly dying, everything was under Heahmund’s control and no one was going to contradict or challenge him.

No one confessed until he had ordered them to be beaten, so determined was he to find out who was responsible. It had taken two days before one slave admitted that it had been one of his own men who had ordered her to put particular herbs in his food. The man in question felt that Ivar was too influenced by the Christian much like his father before him. The man was older, still greatly bitter by his defeats at the hands of the English during his times with Ragnar. He could never forgive Ragnar so he had sought his own form of twisted revenge on his son.

It had not taken long before Heahmund had sentenced both the man and the slave to death. Only then did he return his attention to Ivar. The fact that he had set aside his own ideals and principles never occurred to him. His only thoughts were on making Ivar better. He sat at his side and watched the life slowly leave his only friend before a long forgotten memory came unbidden.

During his early days in Kattegat, Ivar had taken him exploring and had pointed out the hut near the base of the mountains where it was said that a witch lived. A witch with extraordinary powers was what the legend said. He remembers that Ivar said they would often hear stories as children about how she could heal wounds and sickness normal healers could not and how she could bring someone back from the brink of death but that the price was too high, so most people were afraid to seek her out.

Making the decision, Heahmund ordered for treasures and gold to be put in bags. He would give her all the treasure in Kattegat if it would bring Ivar back to him. 

He had as much as he could carry packed onto his horse and he quickly made his way towards where Ivar had mentioned the witch lived. The journey could be completed in half a day.

He had ridden without rest, urging his horse on until he reached the glen where the hut was visible. 

And now he stood watching the woman adding some of her strange concoctions, powders and herbs to a small bottle as she muttered in a language he did not understand.

“Take it and pour it into his mouth. Go slow for he needs to take it all in for it to work. Go now Heahmund, Bishop of Sherborne. Be sure this is what you want. You know the price. Be prepared to pay it.”

Heahmund nods to her and takes the small sealed bottle, feeling an overwhelming need to be back in Kattegat. She had not wanted the gold or the treasures he had offered her. She had simply asked for some livestock which he would have delivered to her first thing in the morning but that was not the price he would have to pay. Refusing to dwell on the price, Heahmund leaves and instead thinks about Ivar. He did not have much time left. He mounts his horse and takes off.

It is nightfall when he returns to the city and to the Great Hall. It’s hushed but he’s assured that Ivar is still alive though barely. Running to his room, he follows the old witch's instructions exactly. He places Ivar’s head in his lap and tilts it slightly so that his mouth opens. Little by little he pours it in, massaging his throat to make sure he would swallow every last drop.

“Think, O' God, of my friend who is ill, whom I now commend to Your compassionate regard. That no healing is too hard if it be Your will. I therefore pray that You bless Ivar with Your loving care, renew his strength, and heal him in Your loving name. Amen.”

He knows Ivar would be amused if he knew Heahmund was praying to God for him but Heahmund was beyond thinking of what Ivar would and would not approve of. He just knew he could not lose him. Not like this and not at this time. It was too soon.

All night he waits and watches, looking for any sign that Ivar is coming back to him. Sometime during dawn, he falls asleep sitting in a chair next to Ivar’s bed.

It’s the feeling of a grip on his wrist that wakes him. Opening his eyes, he finds himself staring into Ivar’s blue eyes, clear and alert. Relief slams into Heahmund and for a rare time in his life, he finds himself losing control. He immediately pulls Ivar in and holds him tight before he feels Ivar roughly push him away. Moving back, a certain feeling of dread begins to fill him. Now he finally remembers the witch’s words about the price he would have to pay.

“His life for yours Heahmund, Bishop of Sherborne. He will return, alive and as he was but all memory of you will be lost to him. Ivar, son of Ragnar will not remember you. When he wakes, he will only see an enemy. Be sure you are ready to pay that price.”

It’s been a full day since Ivar had woken up and now Heahmund sat in his cell, chains around his wrists and ankles awaiting his fate. Ivar bore no love for Christians and had no use for a Christian bishop.

As his cell door opens, guards come in and unlock his chains, each of them refusing to look him in the eye. Heahmund accepts his fate as he’s led outside where Ivar awaits, a large roughly made wooden cross sitting in the middle of the street just waiting for the man that’s about to be crucified.

His life for Ivar’s.

He would die knowing that he had done the best he could and he would not regret making this choice.

Heahmund smiles at Ivar and gives him a small bow, his own private memory. Ivar would never remember him other than the moment of his death but Heahmund would die remembering it all.


	2. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund and Ivar struggle to reconnect. Heahmund wants Ivar to remember and Ivar has a hard time dealing with the knowledge that he loved a Christian priest.

He is once again left in his chains, alone and in the dark.

Ivar had meant to crucify him but frantic whispers and discussions with his men had made Ivar delay his fate.

What the men had told Ivar, he did not know but it had been enough to stop Ivar who had then stared at Heahmund in shock, confusion crossing his features before he had ordered Heahmund back to his cell and he had gone into the Great Hall with his men.

How much time had passed, he was uncertain of but it seemed as if soon enough, two guards came for him. He recognized them easily, having fought alongside them, trained with them and even celebrated with them during the wedding of one. Both seemed awkward as they unlocked his chains and left his hands and legs free of the shackles. They trusted him and knew he would not try to escape and even if he did, they were unsure if they would go after him. Heahmund had earned their trust and respect. 

As they enter the Great Hall, he sees Ivar on his throne, staring pensively into his horn before being shaken out of his reverie by Heahmund’s approach. 

“Leave us.”

Ivar’s words are enough to make everyone leave the Great Hall. Heahmund steps closer but stops at the edge of the furs lining the floor around the throne.

“My men have told me an extraordinary story Bishop Heahmund. They told me how you and I first met. How you fought for me. Betrayed me. Returned to me. How for the past year, you have been at my side as my advisor, my counsel, my bodyguard and shield and as my friend. They tell me that we are practically inseparable, we rarely go anywhere without the other at his side. You, a Christian priest are closer to me than my own brothers ever were. One man was brave enough to say that there are rumors we are lovers. They say you have saved my life on more than one occasion.”

Ivar stands, using his crutch to slowly make his way to Heahmund who stands still, his eyes never leaving his as Ivar makes his way to him like a dangerous predator stalking his prey.

“They tell me I was a day away from death after being poisoned but it was you who saved my life. They tell me you made a bargain with a witch, my life in exchange for all memory of you. I live but forget we ever knew each other. I suppose the spell or whatever magic she used worked for try as I might, I remember nothing about you. There is no familiarity when I see you.”

Moving closer, he places his hand on Heahmund’s face before reaching for his neck and pulling him down in a quick kiss.

“Even that holds no memory for me. Nothing. To me, you are nothing more than a Christian who found his way into my lands. I could crucify you but it seems everyone here respects you for who you are and what you have done for us. For that, I will allow you to live. You can remain here in Kattegat as a warrior. You will fight alongside my men but you are not my shield. You are not my bodyguard. The Ivar who allowed you these liberties is no longer here. You will be given a home of your own, the rooms here are no longer yours. I think I am being far more generous than anyone else would be. If this is not to your satisfaction, we can continue the crucifixion. It is your choice.”

He returns to his throne, his face impassive as he stares at the man who so enraptured his people and apparently him too, once not too long ago.

Heahmund still hasn’t moved from his position. This is actually far more than he had bargained for and counted on.

“I accept your leniency King Ivar and shall strive to not disappoint you.”

Nodding his thanks, he leaves the Great Hall and informs the men of Ivar’s decision. He can see surprise but also relief in their eyes for they had worried Ivar would force them to kill the man they had come to see as one of their own. He still wore his cross around his neck and his hair short but around his wrist he still bore the bracelet Ivar had given him long ago.

*************************************

For weeks, Heahmund settles into a new routine that has him spending more time training, practicing and settling into his new role. He occasionally sees Ivar but they have not spoken. Trusting in God that he’s doing the right thing, he continues to spar with another man, giving instruction and encouragement as needed. It’s only when he’s finished that he realizes Ivar is there, watching him with inscrutable eyes.

“Bishop. Come eat with me.”

It’s not a request, it’s a demand. Surprised, Heahmund gives the practice sword to one of the men and goes to quickly wash up before he makes his way to the Great Hall. He’s surprised to see it empty until a thrall informs him that Ivar wants to eat in the privacy of his chambers. Wary, he goes there only to find Ivar already sitting and waiting.

“Sit priest and eat. I was told you and I would often take meals like this together. I have some questions for you that I need answers to.”

“Alright. Ask me whatever you like Ivar.”

They both wait until their food is served and the jug of mead left on the table before Ivar breaks the silence.

“Were we lovers?”

“Yes.”

Surprised, Ivar looks directly into Heahmund’s eyes, astounded to find no lie.

“So the rumor was true…”

“It was never a rumor. It was a fact. Everyone knew and accepted it. No one asked about it, they would not dare but they knew where I spent my nights. In here with you and in your bed.”

Ivar gives a short laugh, uncertain how to proceed. He had expected the priest to deny it, to say his men were lying or speaking untruths about the two of them yet he was being forthright and honest. He taps his fingers on the table, wanting to ask another question but not sure if he wants to hear the answer. He was not one to back away from a challenge and makes himself ask the one thing he had never dared ask another.

“Did you love me?”

“Yes. I did and still do.”

Silence.

Neither men move to eat or drink, not taking their eyes off each other as Heahmund desperately wishes Ivar would remember and Ivar struggles to accept that he had allowed himself to bed and be loved by a Christian. 

“Why? Why would you love me? A heathen and a cripple. What could you possibly have gained from this?”

“Do you really want to know Ivar? If it is your wish, I will tell you how it came about.”

Ivar gestures for him to speak, curious as to how this could have all transpired. 

“It happened over time. When brought me back as your prisoner for the first time, we would hold many conversations late into the night about our lives and our faiths. This kept happening until I would sleep in your room on the floor because we would not stop talking. During the day you would watch me train, walk with me, show me places that meant something to you such as Floki’s workshop, the lake where you and your brothers would swim, you pointed out the mountain where your father buried his priest Athelstan and overlooking the docks one evening is where you first kissed me because you said you were curious.”

Disconcerted, Ivar grabs his horn and drains it before pouring more into it.

“Continue…”

“You are often curious about things and the only way to satisfy your curiosity was to experience it. Except your curiosity turned to more and I was not immune to it either. From that one kiss came more. More kisses stolen when no one was looking. More time spent alone as I let your satisfy your curiosity about my body. You lamented with me how you hated that your body was broken and beyond repair. You confessed to me your failures with Margrethe and Freydis but you were wrong. You weren’t broken and your body did not fail you. It was not them that your body longed for. Then one night after a failed raid by Harald, we returned here, eager to bed each other. I did not leave your side or your bed after that. You asked how I could love a heathen and a cripple. The real question is how could I not? You showed me truths about myself that I did not want to face. You did not let me hide behind the false piety of my title and faith but rather you challenged me to accept that as helpless and weak a sinner as I am, I am still deserving of love for my God teaches us that we love and will receive love in return. You let me keep my faith here in these lands that are foreign to me. And this.”

Lifting his arm, Heahmund shows Ivar the arm ring he wears now.

“You gave this to me, forged by your own hands. You said it was because after many battles and raids, I had long ago proven myself to be Viking. I may not call myself one but you always insisted I was one and that one day, we shall find ourselves in Valhalla together.”

Taking off the arm ring, he hands it to Ivar to look at.   
  


“See, there. Look closely. It is a Viking arm ring but you took the time to make it for me to allow me to keep my faith.”

And there, etched into the gold was a small cross. One on each side to show that the wearer straddled two worlds but was welcome in both. 

Ivar clenched his hand around it before passing it back to Heahmund, their fingertips softly brushing.

“I cannot remember any of this. I know that what you speak is the truth yet it sounds like a story to me. I need to know. Tomorrow, you will take me back to this witch. I will speak to her myself. Tonight, stay with me Heahmund. Perhaps having your presence nearby will prod my memories.”

He feels uneasy at the thought of Ivar returning to the witch. Their deal was final. There was no going back so he could not see what the point of returning there was but he would not say no to Ivar. They both resume eating, both of them deep in thought for a while. When Ivar stands, Heahmund follows, adopting the routine they had before all this had happened. Heahmund helps Ivar remove his braces then undresses to put on a sleep shift. Ivar removes his own armor then slides under the furs. It’s almost an automatic reflect to lay on his side, facing Heahmund who slips into the bed next to him.

“You will not bed me tonight Heahmund.”

“I had not planned to.”

“Good. I just need you here.”

“I know.”

Closing his eyes, Ivar falls asleep quickly as Heahmund watches him for a short time before he too falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the original ending I wrote because I can't give my OTP a horrible ending so worry not!


End file.
